


Favourites

by Girukun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, fluff makes the world go round, gross fluff, iwa-chan being sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girukun/pseuds/Girukun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And you're telling me," Iwaizumi starts once they separate, regain their air, press closer yet, "that I have to pick a favourite?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favourites

"What's the thing you love most about me, Iwa-chan?"

"Nothing," is Iwaizumi's robotic retort; it's the one he's learned to subconsciously reply to all of Oikawa's ridiculous questions with. He takes in the usual offended gasp, Oikawa's responsive whine and the press of a thin hand poking at his side. "What's got you curious?"

"There must be _something_ you love a lot. I'm nearly the embodiment of perfection, so it's reasonable. Tell me."

It's the winter, it's chilly outside, warm inside. Iwaizumi's trying haphazardly to study for an upcoming exam, stiff fingers curled around one edge of his textbook, and Oikawa isn't trying at all. He's splayed himself lazily over the mass majority of Iwaizumi's bed, entertaining himself by fiddling with Iwaizumi's free hand, toying with his fingers.

Iwaizumi turns his gaze, sees Oikawa's windswept curls, the pale hue of his skin, his eyes, far too big and brown for anyone's good. Oikawa matches his stare, then, and Iwaizumi looks back down to his book with a careful facade of disinterest. "There's nothing to tell."

Oikawa whines like an absolute child; there's times when he's seventeen, and others, he's seven. He tugs on one of Iwaizumi's fingers _hard_ , pushes out a nasally, "Iwa- _chan_ , you don't have to be so mean while we're by ourselves. Just tell me what you love most and I'll leave you alone."

It's a lie, and they both know it. Iwaizumi glances over so he can stare at Oikawa until that fib breaks.

"Alright, so I won't leave you _alone_ , but I won't bug you as much."

"How good you are at giving head," comes Iwaizumi's bored answer. He turns a few pages in his textbook, nonchalant. "Happy?"

"You're lying."

"Is that so?"

"Of course. I'm not good at giving head–I'm _phenomenal_ ," Oikawa returns; Iwaizumi groans so hard his shoulders deflate and it only makes Oikawa smile. "So tell me the real truth. You and I both know that there's something you favourite."

"Tell me what your favourite is, first," Iwaizumi compromises, tone strained and vaguely annoyed. He doesn't care too much, he's never needed the validation that Oikawa downright _craves_ ; that doesn't mean he can't prolong Oikawa getting his way. "And then I'll think about telling you mine."

Oikawa narrows his eyes–Iwaizumi presumes he's searching for a hint of dishonesty. The irritating weight on his shoulder grows a little heavier, then, and he feels Oikawa's smile against the curve of his jaw. "Your voice."

He's definitely not intrigued. Not one bit. "Why's that?"

"It's nice," Oikawa says. He sounds thoughtful, like he's trying to compose his thoughts into something articulate, legible. The fact that he's struggling with that in the first place–

Well, it makes Iwaizumi's chest swell.

"I mean, it's a little rough and raspy, and you're usually using it to say something abrasive or nag me, but–"

" _Unromantic_ , Assikawa," Iwaizumi intervenes; the sudden urge to swat the back of Oikawa's head is strong, but he pushes it down, fists his fingers in that elegant mess of hair and strokes fondly instead. 

Oikawa giggles. It's sweet and fluffy, just like the rest of him, and he slings an arm over Iwaizumi's chest, lays a series of kisses over the column of his throat. "I really do love it. Even if you yell a lot and I have to worry about you busting a vein, you... when we're alone like this, you speak soft. Peacefully. You spoke to me throughout my first nervous breakdown in junior high. It's a lot more soothing than silence."

"Anything to make you happy," Iwaizumi says. He curses himself because it's another robotic reply, but it's genuine, it's true. He'll say it a million times over if that's what it takes for Oikawa to believe him. 

Still. He keeps his gaze trained on his textbook, ignores the odd sensation that is Oikawa's eyes boring holes into him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You're supposed to tell me yours, now," Oikawa implores; Iwaizumi definitely doesn't register the way he widens his eyes and coyly bites the tip of his forefinger in his peripherals. He's fallen prey to Oikawa's enticements before. Now isn't going to be one of those times. "You _promised_."

"I told you I'd think about it." Iwaizumi closes his textbook, drops it to the floor beside his bed, settles his arms behind his head and grins a smile that's rare and smug all at once. "I've decided that it'd be way more fun to not let you have your way."

" _Unfair_ –"

"My decision's final."

Oikawa huffs. It's petulant and cute, Iwaizumi thinks, the way he tosses his hair and dovetails his arms over his chest when he's upset. It's another enticement, but he doesn't notice that so much this time around.

"If you tell me, I'll do _anything_ you want this evening," he tries. Iwaizumi's unmoved and unfazed when fingers dip down past his abdomen, although it does take more effort than he's really willing to give to grip Oikawa's wrist and pull it away.

"Not interested. Anything sex-related is just a gift for your insatiable libido."

"I'll cook dinner for you, then! How about that?"

"That's more of a punishment than a reward," Iwaizumi says; he wrinkles his nose like he's just been presented with a poorly made meal, and Oikawa puffs his cheeks out, affronted. "Last time you fixed a meal, I had food poisoning for a _week_."

"I didn't know that the tofu was rotten."

" _Check the expiration date_."

"So I'm not the best cook," Oikawa flounders, snuggles closer yet and shows a winsome pout, "but I can think of something that'll be worth your while, alright? Just–not now. I wanna knooow, Iwa-chan."

"I don't have a favourite thing," Iwaizumi says, a little softer.

"You've already tried that excuse!"

"Except it's not an excuse," he finishes, then, and rolls over to his side so he's even with Oikawa. There's confusion in his eyes, a little bit of adoration, a cautious furrow to his brow. Iwaizumi smoothes it out with his thumb. "You think I'd pick something to hold above everything else?"

Iwaizumi watches Oikawa's eyes flutter, dilate with realisation. 

"Iwa-chan," he says, _breathes_ , "I thought..."

"I'm not done," Iwaizumi interjects. His hand drops, cups the back of Oikawa's neck, threads up and through his hair once again. He'll never grow tired of the feeling. "You've got all the beauty and intelligence in this world. Gorgeous eyes, a winning smile, the nicest laugh I've ever had the fortune to hear– _fuck_ , it's hard not to smile at. It's contagious, too. The prettiest laugh anyone's ever heard. I don't have the audacity to find a favourite."

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa says again. This time, his voice cracks, and his fingers tremble where they're gripping Iwaizumi's collar.

"There's your hair and skin, too. You never did have to do much to style your hair, to make your skin soft and smooth and _pale_. The hell's up with that, anyways? You're outside just as much as I am. You've gotten as dirty as I have. It's unfair, quite honestly, but I like it." Iwaizumi smiles something minor, remembers a storage of fond memories he's kept since their early childhood. "And you never did grow out of the alien stuff."

" _Iwa-chan_ –"

"You've got thin hands, the worst circulation, and I love warming them up. There's your lips, your clavicle, your inability to wake up before the sun rises, your nervous habits, the way you smile when you've just finished crying–"

Oikawa kisses him; his hands quiver while they skim over his jaw, his neck, down his shoulders. Iwaizumi isn't the best at showing affection. He's not the best at wording things, at putting his thoughts forth, at being _open_.

It's a rarity, and Iwaizumi doesn't feel bad that it is. Oikawa doesn't seem to mind.

"And you're telling me," Iwaizumi starts once they separate, regain their air, press closer yet, "that I have to pick a _favourite_?"

The laugh Oikawa pushes out against his neck sounds similar to a sob. He's bowing his head, but his arms don't falter, wound tight around Iwaizumi's neck, holding for _dear life_. He grips like Iwaizumi's going to disappear, but he knows that he's not going anywhere.

"Love you, Hajime," Oikawa manages, voice cracked and rasped and beautifully light-hearted. Iwaizumi directs him into another kiss, then, gladly takes in every gentle _Iwa-chan_ that's murmured happily against his lips.

This time, when they part, Iwaizumi realises he's grinning a little too widely, but he doesn't bother with caring.

Oikawa looks elated. That's what matters.

"Anything to make you happy," he returns, holds Oikawa a little tighter than before. They breathe even and steady; he drops an arm to curl round Oikawa's waist and lays a lengthy kiss on his forehead.

In the end, Iwaizumi decides his favourite thing is the fact that Oikawa's by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> shouldn't you be working on your chapter iwaoi fic??? YEAH, Probably but i needed iwaoi fluffe


End file.
